


Above and Beyond

by twoturtlesinabathtub



Series: Dance in the Dark [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Brief description of violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 09:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13292097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoturtlesinabathtub/pseuds/twoturtlesinabathtub
Summary: Battling terrible nightmares wears Laslow down, hindering his ability to serve his liege.





	Above and Beyond

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saturnulysses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saturnulysses/gifts).



> Written for the Secret Santa gift exchange on my Discord server. Happy Holidays, everyone!

  
Laslow’s feet nearly slipped from under him as he frantically ran towards Prince Xander, dodging fighters with every step. The paladin had just taken a nasty fall from his horse, and as the retainer hastened towards him, he saw that Xander’s body wasn’t moving. Wasn’t...breathing. “Lord Xander!” cried Laslow desperately, finally coming to a halt at the prince’s side. He was practically painted in his own blood, lying face-down, and Laslow’s stomach heaved at the sight of the gaping wound that nearly went straight through Xander’s chest. “No,” he choked out, falling to his knees beside his liege as his body went numb.

He’d failed. Laslow had failed, and his vision began to blur as tears flooded his eyes. A retainer was supposed to protect their liege, give their own life, if necessary. But Laslow was still alive, and—and Xander—

Laslow gasped brokenly in relief as Xander miraculously stirred, his breathing sluggish and heavy. “Oh, thank the gods,” he said, placing a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “Please, milord, don't move. I’ll go grab a healer and...” His words trailed off and he cocked his head, concerned about how Xander’s breathing sounded: guttural, gurgling, like blood had gotten into his lungs. Shit. “Lord Xander, I—”

Laslow stared in horror as the prince’s head began to raise up from the ground, jerkily turning towards him at an unnatural angle. Blond curls parted to reveal glowing red eyes in a face that had turned a dark, sickly color. Xander’s exhale turned into a ghastly snarl and Laslow leaped back with a frightened cry as he fell to the ground, the prince—the undead monster that he’d become—slowly rising to his feet. The retainer’s eyes widened in terror as the Risen before him raised Siegfried aloft, the sword glowing the same blood red as his eyes. Laslow screamed as the blade came down on him.

It was then that he woke up, bolting upright in bed with a strangled gasp.

 

.~.~.

 

Laslow didn’t really talk about the nightmares. They weren’t frequent—or, at least, they hadn’t been during the past few years. But as the war against Anankos grew graver, as Corrin’s army prepared to face the dragon himself, the dreams came more and more frequently.

They were horrid, absolutely horrid, and always featured the deaths of his friends and family right before his eyes. His mother, his father, Odin, Selena—the roster had become almost bloated ever since the nightmares had begun. They always turned into Risen and then pursued him with the intent to kill. Always. Laslow’s eyes welled with real tears as he buried his head in his hands, unable to shake the head-spinning _fear_ he’d felt when he’d seen Xander’s soulless eyes staring back at him; he couldn’t remember the last time one of his dreams had shaken him to his core in this way.

One particularly strong effect of Laslow’s nightmares was that they hung like a pall over the rest of his day, darkening his mood and exacerbating the tiredness already present thanks to his poor sleep. It was in this state that Laslow got out of bed far earlier than normal, since there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d be able to go back to sleep. At a bit of a loss as to what to do as everyone around him slept on, he eventually decided to make sure his sword was sufficiently sharpened. The retainer’s expression turned solemn and determined as he ran his sharpening stone over the curve of his blade.

No harm would come to Prince Xander. Laslow simply wouldn’t allow it.

 

.~.~.

 

“Are you okay, Laslow?” Peri asked as they sat across from one another in the mess hall.

Confused by her query, Laslow looked up from his dinner at his fellow retainer, only to realize that his body was unintentionally listing to the side without his noticing. He corrected his posture accordingly. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Sorry about that.”

He was not fine. He hadn’t slept in nearly three days, and probably looked it. It wasn’t his fault—he’d lie down at night and close his eyes, but then an irrational fear would seize him as soon as he felt himself begin to nod off. Laslow knew that he couldn’t _force_ himself to rest, so he just tried to occupy his mind and body with other things in the hope that he’d become tired enough to fall asleep. It hadn’t worked so far.

Still, despite his tiredness becoming fatigue which was sliding into exhaustion territory, he couldn’t really find it in himself to be too concerned over this. If he didn’t sleep, then he could watch over and protect Lord Xander as much as possible. Not having any more nightmares like the one that had started this whole mess was just a bonus.

“Really?” said Peri. “But you look so tired and unhappy! Is somebody being mean to you?” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll kill the dastard, if you want.”

“No, no,” Laslow corrected her quickly, noticing with growing worry that the childlike retainer was gripping her knife and fork very, very tightly. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just tired, like you said. Everything’s all right.”

She huffed in disappointment. “Well, okay. But if you need me to help you out with someone, just come get me and I’ll—” She drove her knife deep into the wood of the table with a gleeful laugh.

Laslow stared at the knife dully. “Right. I’ll keep that in mind, Peri. Anyway, it’s my turn to attend Lord Xander, so I’d better be off.” They exchanged farewells and Laslow left the hall, pointedly ignoring the sluggishness of his steps.

As he made his way to Xander’s quarters, a familiar sense of unease began to seep into his skin. He’d been away for over half an hour. What had Prince Xander been thinking, giving both of his retainers a break at the same time? What if some thief or assassin had managed to sneak past the guards and into the astral castle? What if the prince had been accosted by one of those people in his office? What if he’d been hurt? What if—? Laslow’s pace quickened until he was running, and he didn’t stop until he was practically pounding on the door to Xander’s study.

The second he heard a voice telling him to enter, he threw the door open and dashed in, skidding to a stop in front of the large desk that occupied one of the far corners of the room. There he was. Oh, thank the gods. Xander, calm, strong, stupidly handsome Xander, who was now looking at him in concern as he sat at the desk, quill in hand. “Laslow, what is it? Has something happened?”

Laslow straightened up and tried to subtly get his harsh breathing under control. “I’m...I’m fine,” he said thinly. “I apologize for the abrupt intrusion—I just felt uncomfortable leaving you unguarded.”

Prince Xander still looked a bit worried, but there was the barest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself for short periods of time, thank you.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t, milord. It’s merely for my own peace of mind.”

Xander gave a little hum in acknowledgement. “All right. I have no real objections to your being here, so you may stay.”

“Thank you.” Like so many times in the past, Laslow took up his post, standing a respectable distance from Xander’s desk as the prince resumed his work. As he watched the door and window and listened to the scratching of quill on parchment, he had to push down the nausea that had been slowly but surely building in his stomach. It had been a long time since he’d gone several days without sleep, and now it was catching up to him. Glancing over at his liege, his safe and sound liege, helped Laslow to steel himself against the overwhelming tiredness that was threatening to overtake him.

Laslow held out for longer than he’d expected, thankfully. However, it was all shot to hell when Prince Xander called him over to assist him. As Laslow leaned over the desk, helping to straighten and organize the documents laying across it, a fit of vertigo passed through him; he almost blacked out, but his hands thankfully came down on the desk to keep him from falling onto it face-first. “Ugh,” he groaned lowly.

Rightfully puzzled, Xander’s brow furrowed. “Are you all right?” he asked. “You don’t look so good.”

Laslow didn’t make a habit of lying to Xander, but he wasn’t sure how to explain his predicament, and had no idea how the other man would react. “U-uh, yes, milord. I’m perfectly fine.”

“You’re sure? Perhaps you should sit down for a moment.”

That sounded like a good idea. “I think I will, actually, thank you. Just for a minute, though. I’m afraid that I’m feeling...a bit...” Laslow trailed off as he swayed on his feet, and Xander’s expression became alarmed. The last thing Laslow saw before he passed out cold was the crown prince springing up from his seat towards him.

 

.~.~.

 

When Laslow came to, it was slowly, sluggishly, and he resisted opening his eyes for as long as possible. He was just so ensconced in warmth and comfort, the kind that made him want to sleep for days.

...Wait. Hadn’t he been in Lord Xander’s office? Laslow’s eyes shot open to see that he was tucked into a large bed. Oh. This was Xander’s bed. Well. Groggily, he pushed himself up onto his forearm to look around the prince’s private chambers. Just a few feet away, Xander himself was sitting in a chair that he’d pulled closer to the bed, reading a long piece of parchment with a frown on his face.

He looked up the instant that he noticed Laslow’s movements, though, and his expression softened. “I didn’t want to wake you. You’ve seemed far too exhausted over the past few days.”

“D-did you...carry me in here?” Gods, Laslow knew that Xander was considerably taller, but he didn’t realize that their height discrepancy was so pronounced. He was just lucky that Xander was so kind, and so strong, and so smart, and so talented, and—

Uh-oh. Laslow was normally able to repress these awkward thoughts well enough, but his inhibitions had been worn down too much by his tiredness. The fact that he was literally in his liege’s bed was doing nothing to help his situation.

“Yes, I did,” Xander replied. One of Laslow’s hands came up to brush his head as he felt around for a contusion of some kind; he’d probably fallen pretty hard, despite not having a headache. Xander read the gesture acutely. “You weren’t injured—I managed to catch you just in time.”

He’d _caught_ Laslow. Like he was some sort of damsel. Dammit. Laslow seemed to sink underneath the dark bedclothes even further, until only his eyes were peeking out. “Oh...thank you, milord. I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Laslow,” Xander began, his voice taking on a more serious tone, “I need you to tell me what’s going on. Why do you look like you haven’t been getting any rest?”

“I, uh, I suppose it’s because I haven’t.” Laslow’s teeth began to worry at his lower lip as he averted his gaze. “I’ve been experiencing trouble sleeping for a few days, I’m afraid. And eventually I just sort of...stopped trying.” He looked up to see that Xander had gone back to frowning, which was a bit disconcerting. “But it’s all right,” he assured the prince. “If I sleep a bit less, then that just means that I can guard you more than I was before. It’s my job, after all. I’m sure that what happened tonight was just an anomaly, and I promise that this won’t happen again.” Laslow gestured to the bed as he said this, his worry increasing as he saw the solemn look on Xander’s face darken.

The prince’s voice was low as he admonished Laslow. “This sort of behavior is dangerous. Going with little to no sleep for a long enough period of time can simulate the effects of intoxication. Would you ever in good conscience attempt to fulfill your duties to me while drunk?”

Despite Xander’s tone and expression, Laslow could tell that he wasn’t angry. He knew him too well, by now. The prince was worried. “No, I would never—”

Xander cut him off. “And what if we’d suddenly been called into battle? You’d be much more liable to make mistakes that would end up getting yourself hurt, or worse. How do you imagine I’d feel if I lost another retainer?” Xander squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t make me go through that again, Laslow. I implore you.”

Shamed into silence, Laslow stared at the oil lamp on a corner table that helped to light the room, unable to even look at the prince. After a lengthy pause, Laslow finally spoke, his voice sounding very small. “You’re right. I haven’t given my situation enough consideration, and I’ve failed in my duties as your retainer because of it. I... _I’m_ supposed to be the one who protects _you_.” Laslow hoped to the gods that he wouldn’t cry. He already felt humiliated enough.

“It’s not only that, my friend.” Laslow startled when Xander moved to sit down at Laslow’s side on the edge of the bed, facing him. Laslow felt heat rising to his cheeks when he realized that he could reach out and touch Xander effortlessly. “Though I come across as unyielding—stubborn, even—” the blond let out a quiet chuckle, “it’s only because I care about you. You’re a good man, Laslow, and I need you to allow yourself the breaks that you deserve. If something were to happen to you...”

There was something in Xander’s gaze that was putting Laslow’s pulse through the wringer, and his face became incredibly hot. “Nothing will, milord. I swear.”

Xander looked down at his hands. “That’s good to hear.”

There was another pause in conversation as they faced one another, and Laslow looked over at the fire that was crackling in the room’s hearth. “Again, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to waste so much of your time.”

Xander looked a bit perplexed. “When have I ever said that I view time spent with you as a waste? I don’t remember having done so.”

Laslow’s mouth twitched up into an abashed grin as the prince gave him a little smile in return. “No, I suppose you haven’t.” It was surreal, lying in Lord Xander’s bed and looking up at him. The retainer swallowed hard, desperately trying to shove down those pesky thoughts about Xander that had entered his mind a few minutes ago.

If Xander sensed the impropriety of the situation, he didn’t show it. “Good. Now, take the rest of the evening off. Get some sleep. And yes, that’s an order.” He noticed that Laslow was opening his mouth with a displeased expression on his face. “Do you intend to disobey me?” he asked, frustration slipping into his tone.

Laslow was practically pouting as he looked away. “I just...” He was afraid to leave, to not have Xander within reach, lest something happen to the man.

Xander sighed quietly. “All right, I suppose there’s a rather obvious solution to this. Rest in here, then. I’ll work from in here and only wake you if absolutely necessary.”

Laslow’s heart somehow flew up into his throat and dropped down into his stomach all at once. “M-milord, I hardly think that that’s approp—”

The blond raised an eyebrow. “You passed out in my quarters while guarding me. If anything, I feel guilty for not noticing your state of unwellness earlier.”

“But—”

Xander reached to place a hand on Laslow’s shoulder. “Don’t worry yourself over this. You’ve spent so much of your time taking care of me. The least you can do is allow me to return the favor.”

Laslow may have imagined it, but it seemed that Prince Xander’s hand on his shoulder lingered a bit longer than necessary. “I guess I shouldn’t argue with you. As you said, you can be pretty stubborn.” He grinned when Xander let out a little snort in laughter.

“All right, fine, you’ve made your point. I’ll get back to work.” Xander’s weight left the bed as he went to move a small table to stand next to his chair. Laslow tried not to think about how he already missed being so close to him.

He decided to close his eyes, the same way he had whenever he’d been trying to sleep for the past few nights. This time, however, he could hear Xander’s soft breathing mere feet from him. Xander was all right, he told himself. He’d wake Laslow up if he needed him. Xander wanted to help take care of him, too. Laslow’s breathing grew steadier and more even as his mind began to drift. And if he let some of those feelings from before enter his mind, he didn’t try to shoo them away.

Calm, warm, and secure in the knowledge that he was safe, Laslow finally fell asleep. Before he completely nodded off, though, he could’ve sworn that he felt hesitant, gentle fingers softly brushing through his hair.


End file.
